


Halloween

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair dresses up for Halloween</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween

## Halloween

by Dana

All locations are used in a fictionish sense. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

I would like to thank BAW for a prebeta read. All errors are my own. 

* * *

Blair hung up Halloween decorations. "Do you want to attend the Day of the Dead celebration this year?" 

"Chief, I'd rather watch TV and cuddle." 

"San Francisco is very multi-cultural and we don't experience enough of it." 

Jim steadied Blair's ladder as Blair hung up fake cobwebs. "This place looks like The Blair Witch Project." 

Blair climbed down the ladder into Jim's arms. "You're so bad." 

Jim kissed Blair as he kicked away the ladder. "And you love every second of it." 

"Last year, all we did for Halloween was watch B-movies, eat popcorn and hand out candy. The veil between the world and the underworld is thinnest on All Hollow's Eve." Trick or treat and dressing up as Darth Maul weren't what Halloween was about; it was about life, death and the thin line between the two. 

"Everything has to be an anthropology lesson with you. Join me on the couch." 

Blair didn't want to watch post-season baseball. Neither the Giants nor the Mariners were playing. Blair rested in Jim's arm and started to nibble on Jim's ear and unbutton his shirt. Jim was a bigger basketball fan than baseball fan. It wasn't long before the boring game was forgotten and Jim and Blair were playing sports of their own in the bedroom. 

Blair returned with a bag of clothes between his afternoon and evening class the next day. He hid them in the closet. Jim wouldn't look because Blair had lectured Jim about listening into his phone conversations. Jim agreed that if he eavesdropped on Blair's conversations with other professors that he would act like he never heard conversations that weren't concerning him. Blair needed a few house rules of his own, in a house where privacy was just an illusion. Besides, Blair had lectured Jim on looking for Christmas presents the year before. 

* * *

On October 31st after Jim had left for work, Blair decided to dress up for Halloween. Blair hadn't dressed up since his last year at Rainer when he found authentic Navaho clothes and dressed like an Indian chief. The other TA laughed because they knew that his SO called him chief. This year he decided to be a little crazier. For the day of the dead, one dressed up like a ghoul to frighten the real ghouls back to their crypts. He had purchased a tight black dress, fishnet stockings, a black fright wig, woman's black sandals, and the necessary make-up for that gothic look. Blair had never dressed in drag before and didn't look forward to shaving his legs and under his arms. 

As he smeared shaving cream on his left leg, he wondered how women shaved so much territory every other day. The razor frequently filled with hair as he tried to hurry to prepare before his ten o'clock class. Jim had left before eight and he had plenty of time. He couldn't wear fishnet stockings with hairy legs; it would just ruin the effect. He had a meeting with Professor Gary Holdeman about the progress that he was making on the textbook that they were co-authoring after lunch. He hoped the man with twins and another on the way had a sense of humor about cross-dressing. It was Halloween after all. 

After he had shaved his legs and pits rather thoroughly, Blair found a pair of socks to stuff into the bra that he purchased. Ankles socks were more than enough to give the impression of something there. He then worked on putting the stockings on trying to remember how his girlfriends put them on but most the girls that he could remember wore shoes and socks like he did. He rolled it up his leg the best he could, hoping medium to tall size would fit. After he had tackled the stockings, he put on a girdle give him a more feminine shape. No wonder most the women that he had dated were the jeans type. He finally put on the long black dress with a slit in the back to ease walking. He brushed his hair and put it in a bun so he could manage to put a long black wig over it. He still had to glue on fake nails and apply make-up to complete the look. 

The fake nails from the costume store weren't as easy to apply as it said on the label. Blair put some moisturizer on his face to hide the coarse skin that shaving everyday had caused. His face looked adolescent without much effort. _I look sixteen._ He could apply make-up now. He put on white face make-up and black lipstick. He squinted in the mirror as he applied black mascara to his long eyelashes to complete the look. No one would recognize him. He slipped on the flat sandals, threw the cobweb shawl over his shoulders and picked up his green backpack. It was nine o'clock. He didn't have time for much more than going to his office and checking his email before giving his lecture on the pyramids found in Central and South America to his eager class of freshman. 

Margaret Rosen, PhD., was in their shared office as he stepped in to read his mail. "Blair, I wouldn't have recognized you. You make a delightful girl." 

"I'm trying to look scary." 

"You're cute as a witch. I never dressed up for Halloween; it is too much effort for only one day." 

"Jim says the same. Do the students dress up? I didn't see any of the way to the education building." 

"A few do," Margaret said. "Mostly because they have parties later and don't want to run back to the dorm to change. Have fun." 

"Did Professor Holdeman come by? I have to talk to him later today." 

"I just got in myself." 

Blair picked up his book and lecture notes for his class. Half the students were in their seats when he arrived. Strange, he wasn't late this time. "So where is Professor Sandburg?" a student in the front row asked. 

"Very funny," Blair said he put his book and lecture notes on the podium. 

"You look good as a girl," one of the male students yelled. 

"I'm showing a movie today on Central and South American pyramids. There will be discussion afterwards. Remember class participation is twenty percent of your grade. As a reminder, your term paper is due a week from today?" 

One of the girls came up to him after the class, "Professor Sandburg, you have guts to dress like that." 

"I have no idea what you girls went through in the morning." Blair waved his hand to show off the plastic nails. "Should I risk the men's room?" The student walked away without answering. 

Blair was supposed to meet Gary Holdeman in less than an hour. A couple of male students smiled at him on the way to the faculty bathroom. He flirted back. In the stall at the bathroom, he pulled down the fishnets, held up the skirt and pulled down his briefs to pee. No wonder his girlfriends took forever in the bathroom. After he fixed his stockings and skirt, he used the bathroom mirror to reapply his lipstick near the sink. 

"Miss, you shouldn't be in the men's room," said an older male professor. 

_I'll use the women's room the rest of the day._ Blair finished putting on the lipstick and put his backpack over his shoulder to trek to Gary Holdeman's office. 

"Miss, how can I help you?" Professor Holdeman asked as Blair knocked on his door. 

"We have an one o'clock meeting to talk about our progress on our textbook," Blair said. "Have you been able to read all the notes that I sent you?" 

"I'm still working on it. I completed another chapter. Would you like to help me edit it?" Collaboration created extra work. Professor Holdeman needed to understand Professor Sandburg's work as well as his own. They needed to proofread each other's work and make the book work as a whole. Sandburg had no experience writing textbooks and wrote to impress professors, not to make things easy to understand for students. However, Sandburg was willing to learn. 

"Do you want to go to my house tomorrow night and we can work it?" Blair asked. 

"Your roommate complained that we were making too much noise," Professor Holdeman said. 

"And working around two four year olds would be better?" Blair said. 

"We could work in the library until they close and then go to my place. The twins will be asleep by then," Professor Holdeman said. 

"I'll meet you at seven at the main campus library." 

"Expect a long night. Blair, you look really cute. If I didn't know you, I would have thought you were a girl." 

"If my voice didn't give me away. How many women that you know are baritones?" 

"I don't think you should dress that way. People will have ideas about you." Professor Holdeman shuffled through his notes. 

"I'm a faggot and I really don't care who knows. Jim and I have never been in the closet and we aren't about to start now." 

"Jim is a cop. You could be endangering him." Professor Holdeman was giving fatherly advice and Blair didn't need it. 

"We heard it all before: backup that doesn't arrive, calls that aren't forwarded, anonymous notes on lockers, tires slashed. It's all in my book, our book. Jim is a big boy." Blair crossed his legs the best he could in that tight dress and put his hands on his laps to keep his hands from flying when he talked; he didn't want to lose a fake nail. 

"Just be careful. Jim is new to the department. I heard some horror stories in my time. You're a good kid. I wouldn't want to see you hurt." 

"Thank you for your concern. Tomorrow night." 

Blair walked back to his office. Gary Holdeman didn't want to protect Blair or his lover. He didn't want to be seen walking around campus late at night with a faggot. Why did his relationship with Jim threaten Holdeman? Blair had no interest in anyone but Jim. Holdeman had a wife and two children with another child on the way. Why did some men feel that their sexuality was threatened by even being friends with a faggot? Blair wasn't about to hide in the closet because it made other men uncomfortable. 

In the men's room, Blair washed off the make-up and shave off his afternoon shadow. He reapplied moisturizer. The make-up could wait to this evening. His pores were already were already yelling in protest. The 'lady' at the gothic clothing store gave him advice on make-up. 

Jim was waiting for him. He must have forgot to tell Jim that he had an appointment during lunch hour. Jim took the backpack from Blair. "Clashes with the outfit." 

"Holdeman is being an ass. He doesn't want to be seen with me on campus because I'm a fairy." 

"People are like that. I'm not making many friends on the force myself." 

"You have always been a loner." 

"It doesn't help that my boyfriend hangs on me at office when he has time off." 

"Mr. Touchy-feely, you hang on me and I don't stay in the office for more than a few minutes at a time, and after September 11th, I had to fill out an observer pass claiming it was for my textbook to visit." 

"Captain Dawkins knows you are completing a textbook on police ethics; he didn't give you the third degree like Simon did when you asked for an observer pass." 

"You cling to me." Blair was only allowed to visit if he was there to talk about his textbook. Family members were no longer allowed into restricted areas of the police station. Since Captain Dawkins knew Blair was doing a textbook, he wouldn't stop praising his department. His stories were more boring than Simon's. "Don't even try it. Man, this is San Francisco; half the department is queer. I can't deal with Gary's immaturity. We have to work together." 

"You are the one dressed up like a child for trick-or-treat." 

"I need some cheering up. Jim, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I had an appointment during lunch." 

"I called your office. Dr. Rosen told me what you had a meeting with Holdeman and what time you would be back. I know better than to come to your office without calling first. You're never here." Jim put his hand on Blair's arm. "Chief, cobwebs do it for me." 

"You didn't say that when I was sticking them to the windows." Blair turned around and modeled. "You should dress up." 

"Not on duty," Jim said. "Are you up to lunch? Our captain told us to take half the day off so we could be on call tonight in case partiers have too much to drink and too little common sense." 

Blair put his arms Jim in the hallway. "I want to suck your blood." Blair lightly pressed his lips to Jim's neck. 

"Is blood vegan?" Jim asked as he took Blair's hand. 

"Only if the victim is willing." Blair flashed a wicked grin. Blair remembered on a vegan mailing list that there was a brief discussion about semen, blood or other bodily fluids swallowed during sex and the general consensus that it was vegan like mother's milk because it was given willingly. "You should tell Robin that you are taking me out." 

"I have the afternoon off. I'm not leaving my partner with all the paperwork." 

"You left me with all the paperwork." 

"Robin is the senior officer and I get all the paperwork. I have to go back tonight and finish up. Why don't I go to the snack bar and get you a veggie burger and fries?" 

"I can taste the beef fat; they cook all the burgers on the same grill." Blair went from omnivore to vegan overnight. Jim teased him that the best way to care about the environment was to become vegetarian. Blair never did anything halfway. 

"I think you're catching my senses." 

"If they were contagious, I would have caught them long ago. I still need reading glasses. How can you stand to eat animal flesh with your senses? It smells so horrible." 

"Habit. I like the taste. I eat a lot less than I used to." 

"Don't Wonderburgers taste like carbon and grease?" 

"I have a thing for carbon and grease. I enjoy it when you try new recipes. We can just sit here until your office hours are over." 

"No one will show. People have parties today." Blair pulled Jim's arm lightly. 

* * *

In a Hispanic section of town not far from the condominium that Jim and Blair rented, a parade route was barricaded. There were vendors in little carts and street stands selling everything from burritos, French fries, candy apples and sausages. Blair asked a street vendor for, "dos manzanas, por favor." 

"It's just a street fair with half the people dressed as ghouls. We should be stayed home and watched B-movies." 

"It's culture." Blair's lipstick came off on his apple. "There will be dancing later. Most of the holiday involves setting out food and gifts for the dead." 

"Why did we bother? Neither of us believes in this nonsense." 

Blair laughed. Jim didn't believe in any of this that is why he gets advice from Incacha. "Neither do most of the people out here. It's just an excuse to party and dress up." Blair thought about the time that Jim went to the other side to retrieve his soul. Talking about it would ruin the holiday mood. He couldn't say that he was forever grateful because if Jim didn't risk his own soul by crossing that veil, he wouldn't be here to consider it. Blair didn't fear death because he knew what lay on the other side. People dressed as ghouls to take death's power away. 

"Ayuda!" a woman yelled. 

"A lady needs assistance." Jim pulled Blair by the arm. 

Blair listened as hard as he could to locate the woman's screams, as the crowd seemed to hold Jim back. Although he heard only the sounds of the crowd, Blair was smaller and seen as female so he could break through the crowd faster to help the woman Jim heard yelling. "No!" Blair, finally, heard seconds before seeing the woman. 

"Por favor no," the woman yelled repetitively as Blair came closer. He could see a man force himself on her as she was pressed against the wall. The lady was wearing a thin black dress, and the two men attacking her were all dressed in black with white ghoul make-up on their faces. 

A man grabbed Blair and threw him against the wall of a building. "Bonita." 

"Tango esposo grande." Blair used a falsetto to buy a few seconds, hoping that Jim would get through the crowd quickly. At least, the men had stopped trying to rape the young woman. 

The man pulled the fright wig off of Blair's head. "Que chica linda. Que pelo bonito." The man pulled out the hair clips as the other man held Blair. His curls rained down in all directions. One of the men kissed him as he fondled the long curls. Blair wanted to bite the man but didn't hoping it would buy time for Jim to arrive. Blair tried not to gag as the man horrible breath suffocated him. Blair tried with all his might to push the man away but he was pinned against the wall. 

"Mi hombre es un guardia de policia," said Blair maintaining the falsetto. Jim should have reached him by now. Blair found an opportunity to kick the man when he moved away from him momentarily. The large man screamed a bit but Blair's kicks weren't strong enough to knock the man off, besides he was kicking air more often than making physical contact. 

One man that held him against as the other man ripped Blair's dress, exposing Blair's chest hair. The shit was going to hit the fan. "Maricon," the man said and started to beat him. 

Jim finally arrived and pulled his gun. "Stop, police." 

Blair translated. His dress was ripped, showing part of a stuffed bra and his hairy chest. The white and black ghoul make-up was running down his face. Two men continued beating him. The young woman that was beaten and nearly raped had escaped through the crowd. 

Jim cocked his gun. 

The men backed off. Blair collapsed against the concrete wall. Finally, two uniformed officers arrived as Jim read the two preps their rights and Blair translated into Spanish. Jim cuffed them. 

"Que pasa, nino bonito?" a police officer asked. Blair knew "pretty boy" was a larger insult in Spanish than English and it wasn't a polite thing to call someone in English. 

"Usted prefere el espanol o el ingles?" Blair asked. 

"English," the officer said, "for the detective unless you want to continue translating." 

"A woman called for help in the crowd and I ran to help," Blair said. 

"Ellison from homicide," Jim said. "I followed Blair to the screaming girl. By the time I got here, the girl ran and they were beating Blair." 

"Blair, would you like to make a complaint? I doubt we could find the girl in the crowd," the officer said. 

"I'm not surprised that she ran for safety," Blair said. "All we can hope is that she calls in the morning to fill out a complaint." 

"It isn't likely," the officer said. "Would you like to make a report here or at the station?" 

"I'll be at the station in a moment," Blair said. 

"Detective Ellison," the officer said. "A faggot's claim that he was beaten isn't likely to move a jury." 

"They were beating a woman," Blair said. 

"Are you sure that it wasn't someone like you?" the officer said in a voice that cut to the bone. 

"It wouldn't have matter if it was," Jim said defending Blair. Jim tried to keep his voice even. He was close to giving that officer a black eye. 

"I'll meet you gentlemen at the station," the officer said. 

"I better take Blair to the hospital and get his injuries documented," Jim said. "Meet me there." 

The officer looked at Jim and Blair before shaking his head and walking away. They couldn't be a couple; could they? Why would a homicide detective being hanging out with a Hispanic kid with a South American accent? 

"We left the truck at home since we didn't think there would be much parking," Blair said using the wall for support. 

"I'll get the truck unless you feel up to the walk," Jim said. 

"I'll walk." Blair extended his arm to Jim, and Jim pulled him to his feet. "Ow." Blair put his arm around Jim's waist as he slumped beside him. "My side hurts. Can you drive me to the hospital?" 

"You have insurance. Ride in the ambulance." 

"There's a crowd. It would be faster if we took the truck. I have a sweater in my backpack." 

"Next year, we're going to sit home and watch movies." 

"Can we at least go to a party on campus?" Blair pleaded with his eyes. 

"I'll think about it. Lean against me." Jim wrapped his arm around Blair's shoulder. 

Blair fell to his knees and puked all over the ground. 

"It isn't that far to the truck, Baby." Jim helped Blair put to his feet. 

Blair sat on the curb outside the barricaded area. "I'll wait for you to get the truck." Blair put the cobweb shawl around him feeling so exposed with his clothes torn. Blair folded his arms on his chest doing his best to cover himself. 

"Would you like me to call you an ambulance?" a man asked in Spanish. 

"Estoy bien," Blair said as he rolled his shoulder over in attempt to make himself look smaller and less noticeable. 

* * *

The police officer walked over to Jim as he sat with Blair in the ER. "Ellison, you've taken his statement; you can go. The little faggot doesn't need your protection." 

Jim clutched his jaw and hands to keep himself from punching the man out. "Did the woman call?" 

"No, she probably won't," the officer said. "Do you think he'll be able to identify the men that beat him?" 

"I don't think so. It was dark and they had make-up on," Blair said. "Detective Ellison probably got a better view. He wasn't being beaten at the time." 

"Detective?" the officer said. 

"I could identify them," Jim said. 

"Chiquita, where's your big hombre now?" asked the Hispanic cop. 

Blair lowered his eyes. 

"Officer Rodriquez, you did take tolerance training? I could report you for harassing the victim," Jim said. 

The officer's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

Jim glared at cop and put his hand on Blair's wrist then put his other hand on Blair's face. Blair put his other hand over Jim's hand on his wrist, awed by Jim touching him in front of the bigoted cop. As Blair looked into Jim's eyes, the pain didn't seem so bad. 

The police officer turned pale. "I have everything I need." 

"Mr. Sandburg, are you able to answer a question?" the nurse, wearing bunny ears, asked. 

The officer shook his head. Blair Sandburg wasn't a Hispanic name. That made no sense at all. That boy didn't talk the Spanish taught in school or street Spanish. Rodriquez didn't know enough to place it in a particular country from Central or South America, but it wasn't a Mexican accent. 

"Can I go home?" Blair asked. 

"As soon as the doctor writes your prescriptions and fills out your discharge papers," the nurse said. "Do you have any drug allergies?" 

"No," Blair said. 

The nurse pulled the drape closed and left. The police officer followed her out. 

"Why did you put your hand on my hand in front of that officer?" Blair asked. 

"Because he's an ass. Blair, I could never be embarrassed by you." 

"I was wearing a dress when I came in." 

"It's Halloween. If you decided tomorrow that you liked wearing dresses, I would support your right to do so. I love you, not the clothes you wear." Jim winked at him. "As long it's cotton or another soft fabric." 

Blair had shaved three times during the day and used half jar of moisturizer to keep his face from being irritated due to all that shaving; he wasn't about to do that again. "Flannel shirts and jeans from now on." 

Detective Whittier, Jim's new partner, arrived. "Jim's right. You do find trouble." 

"A woman was screaming. I had to rescue her." Blair's face was starting to swell from the beating. Blair didn't want to think about the abuse he would get in court. He would have trouble identifying the men. It was night; they were wearing black and had on white Halloween make-up. It could have been worse; they could have been wearing masks. Jim could identify them, but was that enough? He had doubts that the woman would call to make a report. Officer Rodriquez was right; the defendants' lawyer was going to make Blair look like he was asking for abuse by the way he was dressed. Blair wasn't wearing a cheap costume but a nice dress brought in a store that specialized in gothic clothes. "They're going to think I'm a drag queen." 

"That doesn't give them the right to beat you," Jim said. 

"You aren't a cop anymore. Leave it to the professionals," Robin Whittier said. 

"I got through the crowd faster than Jim," Blair said. 

"Jim, I'll take care of the paperwork. You can stay here with him," Robin said. 

"I'll do it in the morning," Jim said. 

"If this gets to court, we're both going to look bad," Blair said. 

"No one has the right to beat you," Robin said. 

"Jim's new to the department," Blair said. 

"Baby, you don't make me look bad. You were very brave going to help that woman without a gun," Jim said. "There was over a hundred people closer to her and they ignored her screams." 

"I've done it hundreds of time," Blair sighed. 

* * *

At the library the following night, Gary asked, "What happened to you?" 

"I heard a woman scream and I forget that I wasn't carrying." Blair opened up his backpack and removed his notes. After being beaten last night, he was no longer intimidated by Professor Holdeman, tenured professor and textbook writer. 

"I told you that dressing like that you would get in trouble." 

"Like they wouldn't have hit me if I was wearing jeans. The way I was dressed probably saved that woman. They were so angry with what I am that they started beating me allowing the woman to escape." 

"You're crazy." 

"I kept a girl from getting rape. That's worth a black eye. So what are we going to do tonight?" 

"Read the chapters that I wrote from your notes so far and talk about a faster way to collaborate." Gary opened his notes and showed Blair what he had done. 

* * *

In the hallway outside the courtroom, Blair waited for Jim to arrive. The DA had told him not to be nervous that gay bashing was taken very seriously in this state. Blair had dressed more professionally than he did when he taught class. He wore a new pair of Dockers, sweater, and tie. Although he preferred non-leather shoes for ethical reasons, he wore his only pair of expensive dress shoes. His shoulder length hair was in its usual ponytail. Officer Rodriguez looked Blair over. "No dress today." 

"It was Halloween and even if it wasn't those men had no right to beat me," Blair said pushing his glasses up on his nose. 

"Were you wearing contacts during the incident?" 

"No, I wear glasses to read," Blair said. After he had lost his glasses and then a few days later broke the new pair, he had asked an eye doctor for contacts and the eye doctor had told him if he didn't want to wear glasses not to wear them. His visual acuity had never been questioned in Cascade. 

"Good luck in court." Rodriguez had been mistaken about Sandburg's age. He thought Blair was an eighteen or nineteen year old kid. Between observing and his years as a detective, Sandburg had more years on the force than Rodriguez. "Professor Sandburg, with your help, those men will spend some time in jail. Detective Whittier had informed me that you had been a police observer for three years while working on your dissertation." 

"And I was a detective for two more years," Sandburg said. "I'm used to being called to the stand as a witness." 

"Donde hizo usted estudia el espanol?" 

"Pas varios aos en Amrica del sur." Sandburg didn't feel like talking to Officer Rodriguez in any language. 

Officer Rodriguez headed into the courtroom. Sandburg waited for Detectives Ellison and Whittier to arrive before heading in himself. Jim whispered to him that he would do fine. Jim took Blair's hand in his briefly before heading into the courtroom. That small token of affection would help him get through the long day. 

* * *

End Halloween by Dana: rochelle@mitchellware.com

Author and story notes above.

  
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